


Small Eternities

by bloodyfandom



Category: NCIS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 03:59:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodyfandom/pseuds/bloodyfandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Come on, yourself," Tony says, voice throaty and low.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Eternities

The streetlamps shed only dim light on his porch, making it twice as difficult to get the keys in the lock, though even after the hardest case his hands aren't usually shaking this badly. He feels equal parts exhausted and awake, the presence at his back calming and enticing.  
  
He finally gets inside and the door is kicked shut as he's pulled firmly against Tony's warm body. He tilts his head to the side, one of Tony's hands coming up to untuck his shirt and the other holding him close; hot, wet mouth latching onto his neck. Gibbs lets out a low groan as those hands roam over his body, his erection jumping back to life after that eternal goddamn car ride. Eternal, like how Tony is taking forever getting him keyed up; teasing, touching. He whispers things in Gibbs' ear, at once coaxing him and tormenting him.  
  
Once he's on his knees he can't entirely remember how he got there. He's bent over the seat of the couch, his pants clinging to one leg, his jacket and shirt unbuttoned and in disarray but still on. Then there are fingers, pressing, stretching.  
  
"Christ, Tony."  
  
Then there's another eternity as Tony is pushing in and Gibbs tries to move into it but strong hands are on his hips.  
  
"Just let me," Tony breathes into his ear. So damn hot. Debauched is the word. Before they've even finished he sounds debauched.  
  
"Let me take care of you."  
  
Gibbs nods, holding on tight to the cushions that offer him no support or purchase.  
  
Once they've adjusted the rhythm is set. It's sweet and slow at first, a building burn, but that doesn't last long. The pace picks up, hard and fast, both of them moving, eagerly entrenched in the moment.  
  
"Come on," Gibbs growls, sweat making his clothes cling to him awkwardly. His movement falters as he tries to get harder, deeper. Tony presses a hand to the small of his back, steadying him as he sets to giving Gibbs what he wants; the slapping of flesh and gasping breath a cacophony of sound in the silent room.  
  
The strong body behind him, inside him, the sure touch on his back and his hip is almost enough to bring Gibbs off without even touching his dick. Almost but not quite. He presses his forehead against his forearm, trying to balance himself as he brings a hand down to his crotch. Suddenly Tony is hauling Gibbs back into his lap, spreading their legs out, grabbing Gibbs’ dick firmly and resuming his grueling pace.  
  
"Come on, yourself," Tony says, voice throaty and low. Gibbs can feel the grin against his ear and he can't help but grin back. He has to put more into it this way and though it may feel good to sit back and let someone else do all the work, Tony knows Gibbs needs to pull his own weight. That doesn't mean Tony isn't firmly in control here. The movement of his hand, steady and quick, meets his thrusts and soon Gibbs is stiffening, head falling back, mouth slack as he lets out a long, hoarse moan.  
  
He feels himself leaning, gentle hands steadying him as he falls forward on the cushions again. The lights fade from behind his eyelids as Tony's rhythm grows erratic and furious. He doesn't last long, a few final jerking spasms wracking his body. He leans on Gibbs for a moment before pulling out and pulling Gibbs with him. As they both collapse onto the floor, breath heaving, Tony still can't seem to keep his hands off of Gibbs. He smoothes his hands over Gibbs’ stomach, his chest, making small, pleased noises in the back of his throat. Gibbs doesn't have to open his eyes to know Tony is smiling; smug and sated.  
  
Then Tony is leaning up over him, nuzzling his jaw, nibbling his ear.  
  
"You cannot possibly be ready to go again," Gibbs laughs.  
  
"Just a little post-coital bliss," Tony says smugly.  
  
Gibbs grunts his approval until Tony kisses the corner of his mouth. He goes still and Tony looks down at him with wide, earnest eyes.  
  
"I think I earned a kiss," Tony urges.  
  
That kind of feels like a kick in the gut.  
  
"It's not something you should have to earn," Gibbs mutters quietly.  
  
He runs his hands up Tony's arms, stopping at his shoulders a moment, squeezing, before pulling Tony down. Their lips meet like a caress, like the way Tony touches him briefly when no-one's looking and they pull back again, Tony licking his lips as if savoring the taste before diving back in. Gibbs knew Tony would be a good kisser, the way he'd known Tony would be able to scratch the itch he'd been reaching for with fingers and fantasies for years now.  
  
It seemed stupid to him now that in seven months he'd purposely, though perhaps not intentionally, dodged every kiss that Tony had tried to lay on him. He'd never pulled away, he'd always moved into it, letting those lips land on his neck or his shoulder, guiding him towards something else and away from that strange intimacy that came from kissing. But maybe now was just the right time, maybe now it simply just made sense when before it hadn't.  
  
Somehow it's not strange to be lying on the floor with his jacket still on and his shirt unbuttoned, naked from the waist down with Tony kissing the life out of him. When they finally pull apart for air Tony presses their foreheads together, hand trailing down to squeeze Gibbs’ hip. A few more lingering kisses and Tony's pulling back completely, offering him a hand up.  
  
"You need a shower," he smirks.  
  
"And pants."  
  
Tony stands back slightly, gaze a little hungry, not letting go of Gibbs’ hand.  
  
"I don't know. I kind of like this look for you."  
  
Gibbs raises an eyebrow that says he is not walking around with his dick swinging in the breeze and Tony chuckles.  
  
"Maybe some briefs," he teases.  
  
With a smirk of his own, Gibbs presses close, bringing his hands to Tony's ass.  
  
"You got some weird fantasies I should know about?"  
  
Tony tilts his head, a wicked glint in his eye as he leans forward to whisper in Gibbs’ ear, "Pretty run of the mill, Boss. I wouldn't mind fucking you over your desk sometime."  
  
A shot of lust shoots down Gibbs’ spine, making him shudder.  
  
"Maybe I'll let you suck me off in the elevator," he growls. Tony bites his lip and reaches up to hold Gibbs’ face still as he kisses him again.  
  
Tony's mouth quirks up, his voice tinged with regret, "I should probably go,"  
  
"Probably."  
  
Gibbs begins pushing Tony's shirt off his shoulders, stripping him down the rest of the way.  
  
"But then who's gonna wash my back?"  
  
Without missing a beat Tony begins backing Gibbs towards the bathroom.  
  
"Or make you coffee in the morning?"  
  
They hit the door and Gibbs pulls him down for another kiss.  
  
"I could get used to this," Tony breathes.  
  
Gibbs grins.  
  
"Good."


End file.
